


A Knight And His Maiden Fair

by VaporLace



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Consensual Underage Sex, F/M, Face-Sitting, Goodbyes, Oral Sex, Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-23
Updated: 2020-08-23
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:00:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26060800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VaporLace/pseuds/VaporLace
Summary: Thancred is leaving on the morrow. Ryne cannot bear it. Heated arguments lead to rash decisions.
Relationships: Ryne | Minfilia/Thancred Waters
Comments: 3
Kudos: 11





	A Knight And His Maiden Fair

“Don’t go.” 

“I have to, Ryne.”

She’d grown so much. She’d gone from a waifish canary in a cage, barely able to lift a sword, to a capable warrior. But this fight was a losing battle, and she knew it.

“You can’t leave me! You-“

“Will die if I don’t, Ryne. You’ve heard from Beq Lugg, you’ve heard from the Exarch. The Scions on the other side are in agreement – we’re dying, if not something worse. If I don’t go, any slim chance we have to ever see eachother again is gone. By leaving now, we leave a door open.”

Ryne’s eyes were sheened in a film of tears, but her face was contorted into a resigned and exasperated expression. She pouted, staring at Thancred who sat on the edge of the bed in a room at the Pendants, head hung, hands clasped and hanging from elbows resting on his knees as he hunched over. 

Ryne turned her gaze to the window, flung open to the outside world. The sun had set, and the sky had been struck with a palette of colors that never ceased to amaze her. The idea that the nightmare of everything that’d happened in the past months was truly over – that they’d won a fight for the fate of her world – had yet to fully settle in.

He was right – to beg him like a child to stay here was to beg him to sign his own death warrant. That was stupid and she chided herself internally. Still, her heart was broken. The idea of these people – her only friends living in this new world they’d built the foundation for – going away drove her mad. The idea of Thancred…

He’d been her friend. Her protector. Her mentor.

He’d been…

Ryne’s hands caught Thancreds and the speed with which she’d close the gap between them seemed to surprise the Scion, who looked to her with an expression of puzzled sadness. “Wh-“

She looked into his eyes, clasping his hand tightly. Trails marked her cheeks where tears had fallen. “I am sorry about Minfillia.” She said. She’d never said it before.

Thancred recoiled, almost throwing her hands away. “What?”

“You protected me, thinking you could save her. Thinking you could bring her back.” She snatched his hands again. “I’m sorry I couldn’t give her back to you.”

Thancred’s face darkened. “Ryne, that’s- wha!”

Thancred’s question was cut off midway as she pulled herself forward, locking her lips onto his. In this heated moment Thancred felt tightness, felt warmth, and felt a lump grow in his throat at the same time. He grabbed Ryne’s shoulder, pull her free and standing as he spun around, pushing her to the bed as he stepped away.

“Damnit, Ryne!”

The girl stared at him, expression half-embarassed, half dejected. Her cheeks now flushed. “Why am I not good enough for you?” She asked, tone tightening with a hint of resentment and anger. “You’d stay if… if it were her – if she were still here. You would. I’m not good enough for you to stay, but she would be. 

Thancred’s features darkened further. “Ryne – have a care.”

“I’m not wron-“

“-Have- a care, Ryne.” Thancred interrupted, pointing an accusing finger, warning in his voice.

Ryne pushed herself off the bed, took his hand, unfurling its fingers and pressing them against her cheek, staring up at him. “She’s a part of me, now. Not controlling me. Not guiding me. We’re one now. And the thought of losing you the way you lost her… I can’t bear it.”

Her cheek on his hand, her voice in his ear. Thancred sank to his knees, pulling her close. The two embraced there, for a time neither one bothered to count. It was broken then, not by Ryne but by Thancred. The kiss she’d given him, he returned it, pensively at first but the two of them leaned together. She knew he couldn’t stay here. He knew the same. In that moment there was a sudden understanding between the two of them.

Hands moved swiftly. Too swiftly for Thancred’s comfort. This felt all at once wrong and right. In his heart and soul he knew Minfillia was gone. He knew the woman he loved had abandoned him for a higher calling – he knew Ryne was not for him – he knew she was his ward, he knew this but in that moment he didn’t care.

This was to be a farewell.

For Ryne’s part, she was much more eager. Her fingers found purchase, first on his belt, fumbling at the buckle, at the fly-lace. Finding his warmth and wrapping unpracticed fingers around it, she was somewhat surprised by the size. Thancred tensed at her touch, too-tight and overeager as it was, and he stumbled backwards into the bed behind him, as if to pull away but finding no real escape. He felt his knees shake now with further uncertainty, falling down into a seated position, his exposed shame hung loose from his trousers. Doubt had infested him once again but Ryne gave it little chance to take hold and fester, and she pulled his hand to her skirt, pushing it under, and up, and in. “If you must leave, I want to remember our last night together.” She huffed, words punctuated by sharp breaths. Thancred pulled his hand free, falling backwards, arm draping over his eyes. “Ryne – I- -I can’t.”

Thancreds words were betrayed by obvious arousal. Ryne crawled onto the bed despite his claim. “Then let me.” She said.

Thancred didn’t contest as the girl he’d seen go from waif to warrior in so short a time crawled forth, swinging a leg over his head, lowering herself onto him. Plagued by thoughts of a lost love and by the uncertainty and fear of everything to come on the morrow and disgust at his desires in this single heated moment, he felt resistance waning as more base and banal and animal urges began to take over as organs of logic and lust began to share blood, taking reason and turning it into a sort of rabid hunger as Ryne, his ward turned warrior, began foisting herself on him.

A practiced tongue began reflexively going to work. Ryne had spent time in one of the most debauched places in all of Norvrandt – even at her age she was no stranger to the ministrations of lust, and though her gyrations and movements and utterances were more mimicry than mastery it wasn’t without efficacy.

Thancred’s loins girded firmer and firmer and his breath heaved beneath Ryne as he felt her fingers once more on his stiffened cock. She began working that as she leaned further into him, his tongue proving magnetic. It was almost reflexive, she remarked, almost instinctual.

Thancred felt his cheeks flush and his lungs begin to burn. He lapped and licked, pushed and sucked and employed the tricks that had made him the talk of many town but even he had his limits, and finally he pushed Ryne back, thankful for her light frame, taking a gasp of air. Ryne however was not ready for this, moaning the whole while, pushing herself back onto him, leaning forward, pulling at his manhood, feeling it slicken between her fingers, lowering her mouth onto it to reciprocate.

They completed the link between them there, Ryne wrapping her mouth around his cock, Thancred lapping at her cunt. This moment was heady and heavy, a violent lust in answer to the impending loss they both felt coming. Their techniques refined themselves, their paces quickened. Ryne gripped at Thancred’s thighs in between pinches and rubs and gropes of her own person. She choked and caught herself. Thancred felt tension rising in his nethers. Ryne, for her part, had already climaxed twice now, each peak punctuated by a pleasured, baleful moan, and as she approached a third, she felt Thancred twitch and throb in her mouth. They each climaxed in tandem then, a sensation that shocked Ryne, who choked on the taste. Thancred for his part ran his arm across his mouth, head swimming stupefied in the moment. 

By now the two of them had fallen out of their clothes, and the cold night air of Lakeland pierced the heated haze in the room. Ryne fell back, chest heaving with heavy breaths. In the dark of the room, things fell quiet. Thancred stared dead forward, eyes locked on the ceiling, wondering what he’d done. He whispered.

“Ryne?” 

Quiet. He whispered again.

“… Minfillia?”

Again quiet. She had already fallen asleep.

Thancred shut his eyes. Come tomorrow, come this time tomorrow, he would, all hopes be, back home. This moment would never be spoken of. A secret hinged between the two of them. Still, despite satiating this urge he felt some sort of emptiness still eating at him. 

Ryne stirred, and he sighed, adjusting his position.

Soon, he too drifted off to sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this for a friend who lamented this tag being relatively barren. It's far out of my wheelhouse so it was interesting to write. I hope its enjoyable - its very off the cuff and I didn't do any real editing beyond proofreading for spelling.
> 
> Thank you for reading.
> 
> Protect freedom of expression.


End file.
